Only in heaven are there no checkpointsThe retold diary of Yara, a child from Bethlehem

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PREFACE

This little book describes the events in Bethlehem, Palestine, during the period of the second Intifada, from October 2000 until the end of 2005. Most of it is written through the eyes and the mind of a girl, our daughter Yara, who at the time was between 3 and 8 years old.

The text is of course not Yara’s. Over the period mentioned, Toine kept diary notes of all that happened in the family, including the reactions of Yara and those of our baby boy, Tamer. Yara’s diary was written on the basis of those reactions. The text tries to remain as close as possible to Yara’s world, and contains many expressions she used. However it should be kept in mind that the text is only an attempt to approach a part of the life world of a child living through a political crisis. It is well known in psychology that although children do not have the capacity to think in very abstract adult ways, the complexity of their thoughts, emotions and sensory expressions is far more evolved than what adults – including parents - would ever suspect.

Some parts of the text have already been previously published in: Toine van Teeffelen, Bethlehem Diary: Living under Occupation 2000-2002, Arab Educational Institute, Bethlehem, 2002 (preface by Mgr Michel Sabbah), and, in Dutch, Dagboek Betlehem: 2000-2004 [Bethlehem Diary: 2000-2004], De Stiel, Nijmegen, 2004.

Yara read the text and gave her own comments which have been incorporated.

We are grateful to Richard Howard for linguistically correcting the text. Richard is a family member, with a Masters in Clinical Psychology, currently working as a professor of advanced English exam preparation for the Paris Graduate School of Management (PGSM).

The photos were made available by family and friends.

Toine van TeeffelenMary van Teeffelen-Morcos

Bethlehem, July 2011

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PROLOGUE: A CHRISTMAS LETTER TO MY UNBORN CHILD

Some time ago your mother, who is now carrying you in your belly, had a fantasy. She thought it would be nice if there was a little panel which she could open to have a brief peek at you. This was so she could see whether everything was fine, and what the color of your hair would be. Then she would be satisfied and keep the door locked until you were born.

It is now my wish to put a little Christmas card through that opening. Why? Like your mom, to say “Hi,” and to tell you that you will enter the world in an uncommon place – Bethlehem – a little town with a famous past and a complicated present. A town that evokes dreams and wishes, but also a town grasping towards the year 2000 in a yet unborn nation undergoing difficult labor pains.

What are my Christmas wishes? Well, I don’t have any big wishes or exigencies, so you can relax. I don’t prefer that you to be a boy or a girl. I don’t wish you to be Dutch or Palestinian. I don’t prefer that you stay in Bethlehem or go to live elsewhere. Nor do I mind whether you will love books, music or beautiful designs. Your mother and I hope to follow the advice of Khalil Jibran who tells parents to treat their children in the following way: “Give them your love but not your thoughts.”

Yet, I admit that I do have a few small wishes. I hope you will be equally open to the richness of the inner world of imagination as to the world of external reality; listening to many fairy tales and not just stories about the physical world we live in. I wish that you will laugh a lot, experiencing the warmth of Palestinian culture as well as the sobriety [nuchterheid] of Dutch culture.

I wish that you will not be bothered by traffic, soldiers and noise. I wish that you will have the chance to see the beauty of nature rather than the ugliness of waste. I wish that you will not be closed up by the closure, and that you will be able to go in all directions to see Palestine, Holland and the rest of the world world.

I wish to seeand hear you soon

Your fatherDecember 19, 1997

Yara was born on December 21, 1997 in the Holy Family hospital in Bethlehem.

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A VERY SPECIAL DRUM

It is October 2000, and Yara is now almost three years old. The Second Intifada is starting in Bethlehem and other regions of the Occupied Palestinian Territories.

22-23 October 2000

It is evening. I hear loud booms from the sky. What are these? The loud booms also come from the ground. They sound close. I am afraid. In the night there is always a little light in the bedroom, so I feel safe. But this night it goes out. My mother and father light candles. In the morning I do not go to my school, the Freres. I stay at home and play. We do not go out.

In the next days I feel quieter. My father and I sing songs together in the evening. On Sunday, we play together in the garden. There are sirens and booms somewhere, a little farther away. School children in uniform pass by on the street along our house. They shout something. What is it? I walk to the street and throw pebbles at the children. Throwing stones is something I have seen many times on TV.

4-11 December 2000On another day I see men walking on the street. They walk all in the same way. They have guns in their arms and have covered their heads. I say to my father and mother: I am a gun. I act as if I am shooting.

Suddenly I hear big booms from the air. I want to go back into the house. It is scary. My father does not want to go inside and we stay outside. We continue playing.

Every evening papa and I sing St Nicholas songs in Dutch. Papa says that we will go for a party outside Bethlehem. We have to learn the songs. On Saturday we go to a tent. There he comes, St Nicholas. He has a long beard and comes on a horse and all children get presents.

Often the radio is on. Mary’s sister asks: “Who is cleverer: Clinton or Arafat?” I say: “Barak.” My mother laughs. I don’t know why. There are clever people and stupid people, aren’t there?

27 November – 4 December 2000My grandpa is ill. He is in bed all the time. Then suddenly all the family are sad. My mother, aunt, Janet and grandma wear black clothes. I don’t know what is happening. They say that grandpa is with Jesus. My uncle and aunts from Paris come. They cry when they come into the house. There are many people coming into the house. The men sit together, and the women sit together. Everybody

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who comes shakes the hands of my grandma, mother and father, Janet, uncle Hanna, and aunts Norma and Rita. It’s happening the whole day. I see my mother crying. The people keep coming. It’s fun, so many people. They play with me. I run around and play with them. Also the next day, and the day after. I go from one person to the other. I sing songs for them. Most of them are in Arabic, and some are in Dutch. The people laugh at me. I pick up my play mobile, push a number and call grandpa. I ask him if he is travelling with Jesus. “Bye grandpa!” I shout.

11-17 December 2000The visitors are away. The rooms are empty. It is strange that grandpa is not there. Where is he? In the evening I give a kiss to everybody. Where grandpa always sits, I kiss the air. I say: “Sido, sido, I want to cry because you don’t hear me. I am angry at you that you are traveling so far away.”

There are many booms in the air. My father sings songs with me. He is playing the guitar. I feel quieter.

I want to travel. I tell everybody: “I want to go to Paris; to Holland; to the Dead Sea. I want to go to the swimming pool in Jerusalem; I want to go to the zoo.” The books papa and mama are reading for me let me think about everything outside Bethlehem.

19-26 December 2000On Saturday I go to the Church of Nativity. I pray “Our Father” there for the first time I say to mama that I am doing it for my grandma in Bethlehem, and for my grandma in Holland.

On Sunday I have my birthday. We go to the zoo in Jerusalem. Mama does not go with me and papa. “Leish la?” [Why not] I ask. “Because of the Israelis,” says mama. “Leish?” [Why] I ask. “I don’t know,” says mama. Then I say: “So I go with daddy to the zoo, and you go to the church and pray.”

26 December 2000 – 8 January 2001Aunt Rita and aunt Norma leave. Grandma cries a lot. She says: grandpa is with Jesus. I think this is not true. I tell her: “Tete, I know why you cry; you cannot go to Jerusalem. The Israelis don’t let you in at the mall [near Gilo]. But don’t be stupid! I’ll take care that the soldiers will let you pass.”

At Christmas, I go again with papa to the zoo. It is so beautiful and green there. There is water in the lakes. At the checkpoint the soldier asks papa where he comes from, and he says: “From Holland.” Then we can pass. In the zoo, I play with the ‘anzeh, the goat. At first I don’t dare, but after a while I give it little

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crumbles of food from a machine. He licks them up with his tongue. I tell papa the names of all the animals.

Back home, I play checkpoint at the entrance to the kitchen. I put up one leg across the door and ask for the passport of the family. One guest shows me a paper, his permit. I tell him: “OK, go into the kitchen.”

I play with a lot of things. I especially like to play travelling. I take mama’s bags and make a boat of pillows. I tell everybody that I want to go to Holland and Paris and not to school.

15-22 January 2001I go to school. I now like to go to school again. At home, I play Snow White. I lie down on the couch and close my eyes. My papa is the prince. He wakes me up with a kiss.

I go to play outside in the garden. I see that the ball which always is there is gone. I am sure the jiraan [the neighbors] took the ball. I am very angry, and shout at the neighbors. They should go into the forest, I tell them. They should go into the prison. They are like the Israelis! Papa rushes to me and asks me to be silent. He does not want the neighbors to hear that. Afterwards we buy a new ball. The lady who helps us in the shop is another neighbor. I tell her that the neighbors took the ball. She tells me that I should not be angry at all the neighbors, but only at the one who took the ball. Back home, mama says: “Poor neighbors; I am sure they didn’t do anything.”

22-29 January 2001I make a gun from Lego parts at school. Papa asks me why I am doing so. He is surprised. I don’t know why. It’s funny.

It is silent outside. The weather is nice. Papa and I go outside. He points at the many stars and the lights of the houses faraway. Papa says that from here we can see 40 km away. That is very far! Tonight I do not want to sleep in my own bed, nor in the bed of mama and papa. I want to sleep in the laundry basket. But that would be too cold, papa and mama say. I don’t care; I want to sleep in the laundry basket anyway. Papa and mama become angry at me. I keep shouting. But then I am tired and fall asleep.

29 January – 5 February 2001In the morning we go out. I am very proud that I am the first to see the new flowers on the almond tree in the garden. Mama says that I have good eyes.

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In the evening I laugh and shout “ratta-tat.” I do like as if I am holding a big gun in the air. I say: “I kill the Israelis; they don’t let tete [grandma] pass to Jerusalem.” Papa tells me that using guns is no fun. He also says that not all Israelis are the same. I should say salaam [peace]. I tell him, “yes,” I understand.

I build a house out of Lego parts. It is great to make the windows, staircases and towers. I like to hear papa singing the Dutch Saint Nicholas songs. I ask for the presents. They should come down from the chimney into my shoes. But papa and mama say that there is no chimney in the house. St Nicholas also left.

5-12 February 2001These days there are a lot of booms again. It is not normal. There is a new sound which is even louder. I ask: “What is that sound?” My father says that the sounds are made by special drums. We make music together. I blow into the flute, papa plays the guitar, and the sound like drums comes from outside. I tell the visitors about our playing. One of the family says: “Yes, it is a big, and very special drum.” My father says sometimes that the loud booms are from St George galloping over the clouds. I know St George very well. I always point to his sculpture above the doors of the houses in Bethlehem.

I get a present. It looks like a hairdryer toy. But for me it is a gun. I show it to everybody.

Mama tells me that I should hurry up with putting on my clothes. Otherwise the school will close its gates, she says. But I say that it is not the school which closes the gates. It is the Israelis. They are always closing something.

I go with papa to Jerusalem. While we are walking between the shops, I ask, “Where is Jerusalem?” Papa says: “We are in Jerusalem.” “No,” I say, “it is not beautiful here.” For me Jerusalem is beautiful. The zoo is beautiful, like the swimming pool and the play garden. Jerusalem is green.

Next day, I tell papa that I am the amira [princess]. I am playing the princess in the play which my pre-school is preparing for Mother’s Day. I will marry the prince, and dance and celebrate in the castle. Papa asks me where the castle is, and I point upwards, to the sky. Papa asks me how I get there, and I tell him I can do so with the sleigh of Santa Claus.

26 February – 5 March 2001I go to a birthday party. But we have to get home early. I don’t know why. The parents come to pick us up. Papa tells me that the loud booms are because of St George who is drumming in the air. I think he is right.

During the evening papa and I run around the table. We do like in a Dutch video in which there is an island [trimeiland] where people must jog all the time.

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There is a toy I like very much. Each time I guess something right, it says: “That’s right. You’re wonderful!” I say “wonderful” all the time, and Papa and Mama laugh at me when I do so.

I am singing a song: “I see a war coming in August.” It is a song we often sing. I have changed the word har [warm] to harb [war].

On Mother’s Day, I play in the theater at my school, the Freres’. There are many mothers. I dance so quickly that the others who are holding my hand almost fell down. I ask my parents that I want a pistol to shoot the Israelis, because they do not let grandma pass through the checkpoint. After many days, mama finally gives me a plastic pistol. But after a few days I don’t want to play with it anymore.

19-26 March 2001My cousin has put lipstick on my lips. Now I don’t want to talk so that it sticks. I hear that older people are talking about shelling and bombing. I tell them that Beit Jala is hit, and that Bethlehem is also hit. I tell them that they should be more careful. I tell them that all the Israelis are bad. Papa says that is not true. I tell him that good Israelis cannot be Israelis.

I draw a lot these days: houses, trees, and airplanes.

26 March – 2 April 2001I see that mama ends a call with aunt Rita in Paris. I am outside playing. Mama tells me to come in because the rain is coming. But I say: “No, the rain isn’t coming.” Mama quickly brings me into the kitchen. I say: “Budrubu ‘Arabi” [they are bombing the Arabs]. I feel upset. In the evening I am crying and laughing.

2-9 April 2001I have my own library of books with pictures, but most of the time I don’t look at my books. I am drawing and watching video. I put some books between pillows; for me they are video cassettes which I want my little toy lion to watch.

I also draw a big soldier with a large gun in his hand.

9-16 April 2001I tell papa that I am an egg. He should play the role of a brooding chicken. The room is a mess. I draw eggs, houses, cows, rabbits and an animal which is somewhat like a hamster. Papa and I make a Bedouin tent out of chairs, a bedspread, a broom, and other things. But then the tent has to be destroyed. I

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become angry. Mama tells me that we can put down the tent shway, shway, (bit by bit), and that I can help in taking it down. OK, I agree.

16-23 April 2001Papa and mama, Janet and tete [grandma] are all going to the kitchen. Papa takes me on his lap and sings Dutch songs. I know that shelling and shooting is something bad, but it is cozy in the kitchen and I am playing as usual. Each time there is a boom, Janet and tete shout Ya’Adra [Oh Virgin!] or Ya-Khader [Oh St George!]. We go to the bedroom to sleep early.

I walk with papa in the street. He says that we are looking for a new house. I ask him to bow down and I whisper in his ear that I want an ice cream. We go and I get a big one. We walk back in the dark, and papa says that the electricity in the street does not work. I give names to three of my bears and other animals: Marie, Toulouse and Doreen. I have the names from the cartoons I see. I give each of the bears a bag and a shekel so that they can buy a drink at school. Papa asks: “Which school?” I tell him that Marie goes to Terra Sancta, Toulouse to St Joseph and Doreen to the American school. “And you,” asks papa, “do you go to school also?” “No,” I tell him, “I go to work and earn money.”

23 April – 14 May 2001I pretend that I have a sister. I make a drawing of her. I love her very much. Mama asks me to eat. I tell her that I still have work to do, taking care of my sick children, the bears Marie and Toulouse. In the evening I hear the sound of gunfire. I rush all my family into the kitchen. When mama starts arguing, I tell her quickly: “Uskuti [Don’t speak]. Do you want my children to complain about me?”

14-21 May 2001Now I am really afraid because of the shelling. “Ana khayef” [I am afraid], I tell mama. Papa tells me that there is no need to be afraid. I agree. Next day, there is more shooting. I tell mama: “You shouldn’t be afraid.”

21-28 May 2001I go to the beach in Tel Aviv with a French friend of papa and mama. In the evening, I want to eat sea fish. Mama asks me how in heaven’s sake she could go out to buy fish with all the shooting and shelling going on. I tell her: “You can go out. Don’t you know that the shelling is not here but in Beit Jala?”

28 May – 4 June 2001Papa and mama are always very concerned that I stay on the pavement, and not go in the street. The cars drive fast on the street in front of our house.

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We have camp at the Rosary Sister’s school. I quarrel with one of the other children. I do not want to go back there. Mama tells me that the Palestinians and Israelis quarrel too and then after a while they make peace. When I am less angry I will go back to the camp.

4-11 June 2001At the summer camp I sing an English song. A nun teaches us: “Good morning to you. I go to your place with sunshine on my face.” However, I see the girl with whom I quarreled and don’t want to see her again. I don’t want to go back. I tell mama that there is a ghouleh [kind of monster] at the camp. Mama and papa are angry with me. OK, I think, if they don’t want to play with me, I will not play with them. Papa does not tell me a story before bedtime.

2-9 July 2001Sunday morning I go out to make a drawing. I often do this outside. The weather is beautiful. Sometimes I bend a bit backwards, my head a bit to the side. I hear the man on the street calling ka’ek, ka’ek [bread], and the muezzin of the mosque. Sometimes I shout Allahu Akbar as the muezzin is doing. We also hear the church bells. It is warm and there is also the sound of the tazziz [cicada or cricket]. It is nice. We don’t talk about the shelling. In the evening, papa is tired but I am not. I tell papa a story to let him sleep. The story goes like this: Papa, mama and I are going to buy vegetables in the Shadi market near Azza camp. Suddenly a wolf appears, bites me, and I have to be taken to the doctor. At the end, I tell papa “welterusten” [Dutch for good night].

9-16 July 2001I sing my favorite song: Tiri, tiri, ya asfoureh, ana bint zghire hilwe amoura [Fly, fly, bird, I am a sweet cute little girl]. It is sung by Majd al-Roumi. Papa comes dancing with me. He tells me an evening story about a flying tiger. The rest of the animals admire him.

22 October 2001Israeli tanks pass by our house. It is at the entrance of ‘Azza camp. They also come near the house of tete and Janet. There is shooting all the time, both during the night and the day. We stay at home near tete and Janet. Papa sometimes goes out to bring food from our own house. Mama says that she is tired of sitting all the time and starts walking in the house. I jump around all the time. When shelling is very loud, we stay in the bathroom. Mama helps me to build a lego house. I use a plastic coffee filter as a megaphone and shout a rhyme that I learned from other children at school:

Battich, ShamaamSharon dzahlak fi hammaam[Watermelon, yellow melon

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Sharon slips in the bathroom].

“Laysh wawa?” [Why is there pain?] I ask, when I see people on TV who have been wounded. I ask papa and mama to pick herbs outside in the garden. But they do not want to do that.

I see papa and mama making phone calls all the time. My father gestures with his hand, as if he is saying important things to the people he phones. I take up a shoe in my hand as if it is a mobile phone. Then I do like papa and start talking loudly. I walk about and make loud steps, gesturing with my arm.

27 October 2001Mama and papa say that there is fighting all the time. When the fighting is less, papa comes home jumping over walls and enters through the neighbors’ gardens.

We stay at home all the time. Suddenly we do not have any water. Mama says that a water tank on the roof has been hit. I help papa and mama and Janet by bringing water from the neighbor’s well. Papa and I sing “Bringing two buckets of water,” a Dutch children song. It is fun. I only cry when I have to stay inside the house and cannot go into the garden. Sometimes papa and I go to the neighbor’s garden to play with the dog. But when the shooting starts we rush inside. Mary tells me the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Then I make a shooting sound. I tell mama that I have killed the big bad wolf. The water is back after a day. Now there is no electricity during the evening. Mama puts candles everywhere. I take my mobile phone (the shoe) and put it to my ear. I make a serious face, and call Santa Claus. I ask him to bring electricity. Papa and mama laugh.

28 November 2001I tell mama that I am going to get married in five days. I leave home to join my prince in a castle in the sky. I water the flowers outside to prepare for my wedding bouquet.

19 December 2001There are lamp posts near our house which are laying on the ground. The tanks broke them down. As-Sha’ab Al-‘Arabi Wayn? [Where are the Arab people?], I sing, while walking in the street. It is a song that is often shown on TV. The people who pass by laugh. I very much like to join a masira [march] to Jerusalem - but only on papa’s shoulders.

3 February 2002I dream about winter fruit. Papa says that in my sleep I was saying all the vegetables and meals I like: cucumber, malfouf, lufete. On Sunday I watch the wedding of the Dutch crown prince and an Argentinean lady on TV. I make

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myself a tiny coach and horses, and put on royal clothes in my room. Then I put on my mother’s wedding shoes with high heels. I tell my mother that I want to wear a wedding dress.

13 March 2002Mama has got a baby; her belly is growing. Will it be a boy or a girl? It will be a boy! My school is closed. I stay home. During the evening, I tell papa: “Spelen!” [Dutch for play]. We play doctor and patient, a wedding dance party, and the family at home. I want my brother to be named Thaer [thawra = revolution]. Mama and papa do not like that. I hear a very loud boom, and say: “Ana khaayfe” [I am afraid]. Mama tells us later that a shell hit the university where she works. Papa tells me that there is no need to be afraid. I don’t agree, I tell him: No, I am afraid. After some time I forget about it and go on playing.

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INVASION DIARY: “DO THEY SHOOT BIRDS TOO?”

The Church of Nativity is besieged. Dozens of militants have taken refuge there and the Israeli army has imposed a full curfew over the city. Those who live close to the Church are not even able to leave their houses at all.

4 April 2002We cannot go out of our house. I tell papa that a tank would shoot at him if he takes out the garbage bags to the street. Sometimes a tank passes by and makes a lot of noise. Some of them have an Israeli flag on top.

Mama, papa, I, and baby boy Tamer stay over at tete and Janet’s. My baby brother Tamer was born just before the beginning of the invasion.

Yesterday, we were without electricity. During the evening mama lit candles. We went to sleep early. In the dark papa told me stories about jungles and dangerous animals. I played Tarzan and jumped from the bed into papa’s arms, He stretches them out like tree branches. It is nice to have papa and mama all the time around. This time feels like a holiday. I make drawings of nice peaceful houses with birds and dancing children. I think I know what is happening. Sharon wants to hit Bethlehem. Strange, all those tanks here. Mama calls Rita, my auntie in Paris. I tell her: “We have many tanks here, do you have them too”? I am thinking about the tanks outside. Papa is singing songs for Tamer all the time. I want him to take care of me. I point to the window and ask him, “Is this the sound of a tank?”

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6 April 2002Janet and papa leave home to go shopping. People can go now out for a few hours. There are soldiers passing, whose leader tells papa to wait. A boy shouts that it is safe on the road but I don’t want papa and Janet to leave. It is dangerous. I start crying. I want papa and Janet to come back. Papa tells me that they will be back soon and that there is no need to worry.

Mama wants us go to our friend who lives close by. She wants to borrow a special camera. She wants to take pictures of Tamer and send them to the family. I tell mama and papa that I want to join. I am not afraid now because papa and Janet can go out; so why can’t I go also? I join papa. I see tanks on the hilltop before the university. Mama says it is OK to go. I tighten my fist while holding papa’s hand. I keep on walking. Somebody whom I don’t know gives me sweets.

Suddenly, heavy shooting breaks out not far away. Papa, Janet and I quickly run into the house. Now I know this is not a game. In the past papa and mama told me that the shootings and bombings were caused by St George going through the skies, but now I know that this is not true.

8 April 2002I call the neighbors’ children because I want to play with them. Papa helps me to climb the rocks so that I can enter the neighbor’s courtyard because the normal entrance from the street side is impossible to take. It is still curfew.

I play a lot. Yesterday I asked my father to put out his hands. I wanted to put handcuffs around his hands and put him in prison. I saw on TV that there are many handcuffed and blindfolded men in a military camp near Bethlehem, on top of Beit Jala. I also took a tree branch and used it as a walking stick. I was playing a man who was injured by Israeli shooting. Then I picked up the stick and did as if I myself were shooting. To the other children I say that I belong to the shabab, who are the armed young men I see on TV or in the street. Then I march and stick out my chest like a soldier. I shout Al-Sha’ab al ‘Arabi, wayn [where are the Arab people]. I have fun, and laughing, I tell the other kids not to be afraid. All the time I try to imagine which people are shooting and which people are not. I saw a man [Tony Blair] on TV, and asked my mama if he also shoots. My father tells me that we are going to swim in Jerusalem when things get normal. But I do not want to go to the swimming pool in Jerusalem, because the Israelis could shoot at us there.

Papa and I play with the dog at our neighbor’s garden. The dog starts barking at another dog, and the other dog barks too. Then a cat starts to meow. My friend can make the sound of a monkey. We play as if we were in a jungle.

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We now have electricity, water and telephone. We can leave the house every three days to do the shopping. In other places things are very bad. Mama tells us about how she heard a mother from Jenin camp on the radio; She said that the bulldozers had destroyed her house. She was still looking for her three-year-old child who could be under the rubble. Imagine!

Papa inflates Tamer’s bath tube. We like to give Tamer a bath. He is splashing around. I sometimes give Tamer his bottle of milk.

14 April 2002Mama is always telling me to eat better. I don’t want to; I want to play. I leave the house by climbing through the gardens, and I meet the neighbors’ children. Yesterday I suddenly heard loud gun fire from tanks, and I quickly clung to papa’s legs. But then I forgot about my fright and played again. My mother called me to come back home. I told mama: “Mama, the tank is only near Gaby [500 meters away]. Don’t be afraid.”

I learn from the neighbor’s children to put grass on the streets so as to stop the tanks. But then I thought that that would not work out. Rocks would be needed for that. I mainly like to play ball. When the ball falls down in another neighbor’s garden, papa runs and throws it back. I am very angry and tell papa that he should have brought me to the ball so that I could have thrown it back myself.

Papa sings songs for Tamer.

22 April 2002Mama looks outside. She sees soldiers going into the houses. Some go inside, others stay outside. The people look through the windows. I also look through the windows. I see a soldier doing pee pee near the gate at our house. I tell mama: “He should not do pee-pee on the ground; that is dirty.” Then I sing the verse: Batteech, shamaam, Sharon zaghlek fil hammaam [watermelon, yellow melon, Sharon slips in the bathroom]. I ask papa to march behind me; we are the Israeli army. I take a plastic knife in my hand which is the gun. I start shouting “Shalom Aleichem!”

I wonder whether the soldiers shoot at birds. As I play in the garden a lot, I love birds very much. The neighbors call each other, and ask. “Have the soldiers entered?” “Lissa [not yet],” says my mother or Janet. One neighbor is praying all the time. Papa tells me not to be afraid. He says: “Papa is a foreigner and they will not harm foreigners and their families.” Papa tells me that the soldiers may come in, but that we can then tell the journalists what happens.

The soldiers come to the front of our house. I am afraid and hide myself under a pillow. Mama opens the door. There are five soldiers. They want to see the IDs of

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the men. Mama says that there are two men in the house: a Dutchman and a baby of three weeks old. Papa shows his passport. The five soldiers look shy. The commander takes a look in the cupboards, under the mattresses and the beds. You think there are people there? asks mama. “We are searching for weapons,” they say. At first, Mama does not want them to enter the baby’s room. But Papa says it is OK.

I am calmer now. After the soldiers leave, I want to play outside. I play with papa in the garden. There is a group of soldiers. At first they find it OK that we play. Then after a while change their mind and send us back home. We go inside. After a while we go out again and play with the neighbor’s dog. The soldiers look at us, and then go into a neighboring house. The soldiers say that I look beautiful. Papa does not say anything.

I tell the neighbor’s son what happened: “Papa opened the cupboards, they looked, and Khalas [that was it].”

3 May 2002Papa and I play in the neighbor’s garden. The weather is good. Do you have everything? I ask the neighbor. All the neighbors are asking each other questions. I hear a tank. It makes the sound of a huge washing machine. I run to look from the corner of the garden. l have learned from other kids about the different types of tanks: the dabaabeh and the mujanzara. I reach my friends with the help of a ladder between the gardens.

I want to play. Papa and I play as if we are at school. In one corner of the neighbor’s garden is the school, and in the other corner is our house. Further away are the shops. Papa is my little friend and I have breakfast and then run to school. Quick, quick, the soldiers are doing “pow-pow.” I wave at papa. I scream; feeling happy and afraid at the same time. I have this same feeling when I play with the dog outside. After that, papa and I do counting like at school. I do as if I open the door of our house and put my hand on my mouth: “Look! Everything is broken.” The sleeping room; the dining room, even the kitchen. I remember a damaged house that papa, mama and I visited a few days ago. Papa asks me to tell the journalists what happened. “Yes, yes, all the journalists should know,” I tell him. Afterwards we play shopping; we go to the shops in the garden and buy a new TV and couches.

Our ball rolls down the hill. I see papa hesitating. Should he run after it? He goes after it, but mustn’t go further than 50 meters because then it becomes dangerous. It is still mamnu’a tajawwel [curfew]. I myself know that in some areas around the house it is safe to run, and I don’t want to go further. Maybe soldiers will shoot. When the shops are open and we go out, I tighten my grip on papa’s hand. We enter an area which is usually not safe. I tell papa: “Papa, you cannot go outside, it is dangerous!”

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Last night, the neighbor’s dog was barking because soldiers were walking around. When Mama gave milk to Tamer, she heard the footsteps.

Tamer makes movements with his mouth that look like a laugh.

I take granny’s image of the Virgin and kiss it, saying: “Let the Israeli soldiers leave Bethlehem.”

Together with other kids from the street we shout like the jeep loudspeakers: mamnou’a el-tajawoul!

The only people passing by are a group of bold monks. They are slowly beating on drums.

11 May 2002The curfew is over. In the evening papa takes me to Nativity Square. I sit on his shoulders. We see broken lamp posts. The tanks did that. We walk along dark streets because there is no electricity. A lot of things are broken and everything is dusty. I use papa’s mobile while sitting on his shoulders. I tell Janet about what I see around me, a lot of things are broken or destroyed.

Next day, papa and I play fairy tale in the garden. There is a wolf, a monster, and a witch.

18 May 2002I hear something outside and ask mama whether it was a tank. It is a truck. I tell papa that I dreamt that I was a good witch facing a bad one who wanted to enter my house. Papa and I, and my little brother did not allow the bad witch to enter. Then I suddenly jumped into the air and shot the intruder dead.

I tell fairy tales all the time, in which a wolf or fox wants to enter my home. I chase them away into a forest far away.

I tell mama that she should not buy Israeli chocolate from the woman in the shop at school.

Mama plays with Tamer on her lap. She touches his chin, wanting Tamer to make a laugh. Papa and mama say that we will soon go to the Church of Nativity. There we will lay Tamer down on the Star, the place where Jesus was born.

21 June 2002

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Papa and I walk along the university street. People are laughing or whispering, and there are no cars at all. The birds are singing. I see a crocodile in a cloud. A neighbor shows me her little puppy. Some neighbors in the gardens are in shorts.

It is curfew again. But now it is not as strict as before. Children can go out on the streets - at least here they can. Sometimes we hear the approach of a tank or other military car. Then we go quickly into the gardens. After the tanks leave, we continue playing. We scream, imitating the sirens of the military jeeps, or shout mamnu’a el-tajawwul. Some people think that we are soldiers. Our fathers and mothers are not happy that we go in the street. But we do what we want. Brahim, our neighbor, teases me. He tells me that I should not go out. But I point my finger far away and say: “Shu ya’ani? [What is the matter], the mamnu’a el-tajawoul [curfew] is not for here but for over there.”

Military jeeps in Beit Jala changed the words and keep saying “mamnu’a el-tajawoul, el-tajawoul mamnu’a.” I heard that they mock the people, asking, “Where are the millions?” They play with the words of a song I like to sing: Al Sha’ab al-‘Arabi, wayn?

Last night there was heavy shooting nearby. Our neighbors found a lot of bullets in the gardens. Brahim was very frightened when I showed him a bullet I found. He told me that some bullets can explode.

Papa and I play in the neighbor’s garden. I propose to be mama the queen, and papa is the prince looking for a princess. I give papa a tree branch which is a knife. I tell him to first kill the witch in the evil castle. After that, papa should capture the bride’s trousseau from the castle and give it to the princess. In this way, he can marry her. I stand a few meters away while papa fights the witch. Afterwards we have a great wedding ball. “Are the Israelis allowed to join?” papa asks. “No, they would kill the princess,” I tell him. He asks: “Not even a few of them?” “OK, a few,” I say, as I want papa to stay and play. I take the mike, and I snakedance the Arabic songs I see on Dream TV [a kind of Arabic MTV station]. After that I am the priest who blesses the couple.

6 July 2002A week ago, Janet gave me a scooter. I show it to the other children in the street. In the afternoon everybody is in the street although it is mamnu’a tajaawul. I know all the children and shout at them: Marwan!, Marwaaaan!, Diiiiima!. Everybody can hear it. I move from one neighbor to the other and don’t stay home at all. In the evening I vomit. Mama says that it is because I get too many sweets.

But then there is a tank. It gives a terrible, screeching sound. It goes towards the top of the university hill. Then it makes a bang. It comes back several times. Each time we run away from the street behind a gate, or back to the garden, or

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into the home itself. But we always return when the tank is away. I hear one child saying to mama, we are getting used to living with the dabaabeh [tank]. Next day, I ask mama to come with me to the street instead of going alone. I really long to play with my scooter. Mama tells me immediately to leave the street as soon as the tank comes. I tell mama that she and papa should not worry about me. I tell them: “You still have Tamer.” Papa and mama become angry because of what I say.

This evening, we hear two loud bangs. Mama says that soldiers saw our neighbor opposite us standing in the street. They gave him a warning shot. The shot was directed towards our side of the street. It came low near the electricity pole in front of our gate. The pole is where I and the other kids usually play.

I have to go to a summer camp where there will be a lot of swimming, mama says. Each day I ask if I can go out and swim. Until now I can leave the house only once. Papa and mama say that they want to have a summer vacation somewhere abroad. I say that I am happy to play in the garden in my big plastic water bowl, or at the summer camp’s swimming pool. Yesterday I played in the bowl with Tamer. Papa, mama and Janet call him Tamoura. He is now really laughing.

Papa shows me the photos of the swimming pool where we go to. Now I feel like going too. “Is that Al-Quds [Jerusalem]?” I ask. Jerusalem is always beautiful.

Each afternoon I take care of a little dog. It was hit by a car.

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“IS THERE SCHOOL TOMORROW?”

23 August 2002Mama’s cousin is going to marry. She had delayed her wedding because of the curfews. Now the curfews start late in the afternoon. Because of a curfew on Friday, papa didn’t have time to cut his hair. I am a bridesmaid. I walk in front of the couple. My long hair is set up and I wear a wide dress like a bride. I have a ring of flowers on my hair. I look beside me to see if mama thinks I walk well, and not too fast.

After the mass, we go to a restaurant. They throw the bride and groom in the air while the women do the ulelele trills.

The next day there is a photo of me during the wedding. It was taken by somebody from the newspaper. He had been taking pictures of me all the time. In the picture I am moving my arm to throw white flowers out of a basket.

13 September 2002Papa brings me to the Peace Center. I learn about handicrafts there, and also storytelling and ballet. But at the storytelling session I am the only one. I very much like to go to ballet with my pink ballet suit. At home I jump up and down on the bed. I imitate movements from ballet and from the dancing on the video clips which I see on TV. I also make shooting gestures.

19 October 2002Last Sunday papa and I went to the beach in Tel Aviv. Mama cannot go because she does not have a permit. We went through the checkpoint full of soldiers. On the beach, I tried to talk with children. But they didn’t speak English. Why don’t they understand Arabic? I asked my father in Arabic.

I count to ten in Hebrew. I have learned that from the Israeli Teletubbies program. The other children whisper behind their hands. Their father asks my father who I am. Then we shout and play with water. On the way back, my passport is checked at the checkpoint. At home, I tell mama that I played with Israeli children: “You know, those of the jaysh [army].”

2 November 2002Tamer always smiles when you do something strange. We go to the Church of Nativity with him and put him on the star. A Franciscan priest takes a picture of all of us.

Each time I come home, I tell papa in Dutch “kom maar spelen [come play].” I don’t want him to be with Tamer all the time. I was a little ill this week. It is OK at

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school. I now play the role of the Virgin in the Nativity play at the school. We do it for Christmas.

16 November 2002I tell mama and papa that I do not want them to have another beautiful baby like Tamer. I am drawing birds, boats, a princess with wings, and Snow-white. I paint Snow-white dark like the black Barbie pop I got as a present.

20 November 2002Papa helps me with the CDs I have. There is still no school. Also, I cannot go to the Peace Center for the ballet workshop. On TV I see that the military have put the Israeli flag there. Papa sings Dutch and English children’s songs for Tamer. Tamer moves his legs very much. We sometimes call him the Train. He moves his lips as if he wants to say mama or papa. He is a bit ill, and has fever. The doctor comes, but it is not important.

30 November 2002Finally we go to school again. Near the Church of Nativity papa tells me good-bye. He gives me two shekels. A Palestinian policeman sees this. He comes to me and tells me that I should not beg for money from foreigners. He is nice. He asks me to give back the shekels to my father. He thinks my father is a foreigner and that I am begging for money from him! The police agent then gives me two shekels. Papa and I do not understand why.

Mama is only afraid of tanks, not of military jeeps. Mama, Janet, my grandma and I are outside in the street. It is curfew! Suddenly we see a tank at the university hill. I am shocked. The soldiers do not say anything. Mama tells me not to be afraid. I am a little afraid, and I tell papa later. Anyway, it is not a big deal. Tamer also wants to go out. He moves so much. Mama walks with him in the garden. His laugh sounds like gh-gh. Like the laugh of Ernie in Sesame Street.

Papa and mama decorate the Christmas tree. I am very happy, and so is Tamer. I ask my father to tell me long fairy tales at least three times a day. I also want him to play theater. I am the princess and he plays all the other roles. During the curfew, I play many weddings. Just before going asleep, I always ask mama: “Bukra fi madrase? [Is there school tomorrow?].” Mama then says: “No, dear, later.” Then I stop asking.

5 December 2002Papa and I go into town. It is curfew but there are no soldiers and tanks. I become tired from walking because I am not used to walking. I just run around in the street or I sit at home. For a while papa takes me on his shoulders. He greets other people, who smile at us. The streets are full of garbage piles. Papa and I

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play a game. We tell each other which sounds we hear. It is very silent. But we hear footsteps far away, the songs of birds, and the voice of our neighbor, Brahim. A man standing in front of his shop talks with us. He says that we should be careful on the streets during curfew, and that we should listen well.

Back at grandma and Janet, papa tells me a story about the Box of Pandora. But the story is too difficult. I am bored. I want to do biking. Papa pushes me from behind. After a while, Mama calls us in for lunch. She says: “Stop, turn around and look at the grape leaves at your right.” Wow, they have beautiful colors.

At home Tamer says his first words: mama, kaka, baba. I can feel his first teeth! Mama watches Liberty TV. It has programs about beautiful holiday sites. “Ahhh, that will not be for us,” she says. But I tell her, “Don't be afraid.” I tell her that we should wait and see how beautiful Christmas in Bethlehem will be.

In the evening papa, mama and I put the shoes under the Christmas tree. We also put Tamer’s shoes. Next morning we see that St Nicholas gave us presents. Tamer is excited by the lights in the Christmas tree. But he wants to take the balls down!

19 December 2002Mama and I come back from shopping. It is just after the time that shopping finishes. So it is curfew again. Suddenly we see a military jeep. Mama is carrying plastic bags on her arm. She tells one of the soldiers that she is going out of the house to throw away the garbage. But the bags are full of food! She tells another soldier that she is going out to buy medicines for me. Go and buy your things and return immediately back home, says the soldier in English. Mama says: “Yes, tomorrow.” When I come back home I tell what happened to Janet and tete. I am proud of mama.

27 December 2002My aunts and their husbands have come over from Paris. During the evening before Christmas, mama prepares a very good meal with special food from Paris. The house is full of Christmas things and images of Santa Claus. I receive a lot of presents. My aunt says that I can give a present to other children in Bethlehem. I agree. In the afternoon of Christmas day, we go to the graveyard of my grandpa. Mama, auntie and tete cry. I embrace the tomb and put my head against it. I very much miss my grandfather. He died two years ago.

31 December 2002There is a march towards the Jerusalem checkpoint. They want to protest the checkpoints. There are hundreds of people. They wait for the patriarchs from Jerusalem. There are also many Italians. While we walk more people join. Papa says that there are maybe 1000 people. There are people who carry colorful red-

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white hats and balloons. It’s nice. Mama, aunt Rita and aunt Norma walk at the end of the march. Papa carries me on his shoulders so I can see all people. Near the checkpoint the soldiers do not let us through. They hold each other’s hand so that nobody can pass.

There are talks. The patriarch talks to the soldiers. I whisper in my father’s ear that I like one soldier's face. He looks like a friend in my class. Next day, mama, aunt Rita and Norma say that the Israelis can go to hell, because of all the curfews. I tell them: "No! Not all of them. Not the Israeli soldier I saw."

1 January 2003Next day, January 1, is a big feast day. Tamer has his baptism. We will go to the church and have a reception next to it, in the Palace restaurant. Early in the morning there is curfew. Then, they tell us on TV that the curfew has ended. But there are two tanks going up and down the road saying “mamnu’a tajaawul.” So is there a curfew or not? Mama calls people, and nobody knows what is going on. Mama cries. Mama says that she first told the restaurant that the reception for 90 persons was cancelled. Then she told them the reception would still take place. Now she doesn't know anymore what to do. Finally she says: “Khalas [let's finish it], if the Israelis don't know what they are doing, we should know what we are doing, curfew or not. So we will have the feast.” I tell that when we go to the church we should wear the hats from the demonstration the day before. You can read “Open Jerusalem" and "End Occupation" on it. I tell mama to give them to soldiers so that they let us pass.

Mama says that the restaurant owner needs one hour more to prepare the food. We hold the baptism one hour later. The patisserie calls for the cake. He doesn't want to bring it to the restaurant because the two tanks are still passing by. Papa takes a taxi to the bakery and brings the cake.

The baptism is a great feast. There are many people with video and photo cameras. I am standing in a group picture with the families Salman and Morcos. We all laugh.

4 January 2003I still don’t know if I go to school. Papa brings me to the place where the school bus picks me up. People around us tell that it's curfew again. The jeeps had announced it in the middle of the night.

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A CHRISTMAS LETTER TO MY CHILDREN

Dear Yara,

You just had your birthday and blew out five candles planted on the cake. We were together in a happy family gathering in Bethlehem. Your aunts and cousins had come over from Paris to celebrate Christmas. We all laughed together. But we also felt sad, because of the political circumstances. This week you asked me to play a soldier shooting a baby. Tears came into my eyes. You wanted me to play the soldier, and you would play the baby. I refused, not knowing what to say. You insisted: "Don't you understand, papa? You are papa and not the soldier, you just play the soldier. It's not real." When I refused, you said that if I wanted to, I could play the baby and you would play the soldier. Again I refused. How can such thoughts come into your mind?

By now, you know the reality in which you live. You know it as good as your father and mother. Far away are the times when we could tell you that the sounds of bombing came from St George riding on his thunderous horse over the clouds. You now know that going out on the streets during curfew can be dangerous. You call the Israelis names which I don't like to repeat. But even though we may feel bad because your imagination is affected by the circumstances in which we live, you also know that playing and reality are two different things. Still, you like your many books with fairy tales, and you can laugh and make a mess at home. You have a childhood, contrary to the fate of many children here. When you can't go out, you play in the garden with the neighbor's dog. You look for the children around, climbing over the fences or sneaking along the road. Lately, after hearing the story of Adam and Eve, you were shocked to discover that you, too, would one day die. But you were satisfied that it could be after living ninety years, like your Dutch grandmother. You feel self confident even though you are like an Alice living in an unfriendly Wonderland where everything that is normal is abnormal, and everything abnormal is normal.

* * *

Dear Tamer,

Nine months after your birth, you laugh at every single laugh you receive from us, and from our family and friends. It is a laugh your mother likes very much because it sounds like "Hah! You can tell me everything you want but I don't believe you." You are full of energy. If you see something in which you are interested all your legs and arms start moving. You look in surprise at the world through your big eyes of which we still don't know the color. You are the apple of everyone's eye and you go from hand to hand. It is difficult to see you growing up in this environment even though you are not aware yet. You look like a strong healthy boy. Lately Yara said that when you will have grown up, she and you, her big brother, would fight the Israelis. But I hope that you and Yara will discover

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that you can fight peacefully; That you, Tamer, will be able to give as much love as you receive; that you will be strong, yet soft and open-minded despite the closures and curfews, and that you will cross borders of whatever nature. For now, we hope that you can enjoy the garden, the weather, and all the friends around you. Despite everything, Bethlehem and Palestine are places to love. Enjoy the friendliness of the people, the food, hospitality and the beautiful views. And of course the weather. It is, despite everything, a joy to see you here saying your first little words.

Your father

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11 January 2003Papa and I are waiting for the school bus in the early morning. Somebody who passes by tells us that there is curfew and that there is therefore no school. We are not sure about this, as it wasn't announced on TV. We go back home and I feel a bit relieved. At first I wanted to go to school but the school was not open. Now (yesterday and today) the school looked open, but I didn't want to go. I have become a bit lazy. Papa and mama work with me on the school books for an hour every day.

18 January 2003The Armenian patriarch will be entering Bethlehem for the Armenian Christmas tomorrow. Everybody expects that the town will be open this Saturday. Papa brings me to the street corner for the school bus, but no bus comes. We see school children returning home. There is curfew after all, says a student. I am glad and go back home to tell mama the news. I tell mama that I am angry about the curfew, like father. But at the same time I am happy. Nobody knows how long the curfew will remain and nobody knows if there is school tomorrow. Terra Sancta School says that they will have lessons. My school, the Freres, remains closed. Mama cannot go to her job at the university.

Tamer is always moving about and smiling. Mama calls him "Abu Hafs," the “father of movement.” Papa and I go to the zoo in Jerusalem. I like the place a lot. Now I understand better that it is an Israeli zoo. Sometimes I cling to my father’s leg when there are many people speaking Hebrew. On the way back, we pass the checkpoint. The soldier checks while he stands on a high bench. I look upwards, surprised. On returning home I tell mama and papa that we must keep the Christmas tree. It is now mid-January, and Mama and Papa say they will leave the tree for a little while longer. Papa and I sing old Dutch songs. I am jumping on the bed while Tamer is hitting the keys of an electronic piano. Mama picks him up and embraces him: “Ya habibi! Ya amer!” [Oh dearest, oh moon!]

10 February 2003Last night I had a nightmare in which, tete (grandma) Janet and I were running in the fields. We were being chased by soldiers. I tell papa and mama that I am afraid of military jeeps and dogs, but not of tanks.

Sometimes I think: “So what are people; animals, or things of which I have to be afraid?” I say I want to live in Palestine because of the weather. I also say that I would like to go for a journey to Holland to have a rest away from all the soldiers. I tell mama: “Sharon is mean because he does not want us to learn.” Yet, it is also nice to have more free days coming!

I want to go to our neighbor’s wedding. There I can dance and see beautiful people.

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I continue to work on my drawings. In one of them I draw black clouds and a bright sun in the sky. Tamer shouts and moves when he is put in his carriage. He wants to get out, rain or shine. Mama tells him “Close your eyes and dream with me.”

24 February 2003We are never sure if there will be curfew or not. The jeeps announce that there is curfew, in the middle of the night. I cry because I cannot go to school now that I have finished my homework. I want to show my work to the miss. But then in the morning cars come up the street. I shout for pleasure. The school tells the parents that we should go directly to school when the curfew is lifted. Mama rushed to take me.

Mama and I meet a ten-year old kid near our house. He threatens mama, telling her that he will take the carriage with Tamer in it if mama does not give him money. The boy runs away after mama says "Badrubak kaffeen" [I will box your ears]. I hear that mama had a dream of Tamer falling into a deep pit.

Tamer can now stand up alone while clasping onto the table. He claps his hands to the music of Arabic hits. He is very happy when our friend takes him for a ride, as he wants to see new things. His new teeth are coming through. On Sunday papa and I go out. It is a sunny day and there is no curfew. The cars are passing by on the street. I tell papa to play "mamnu'a tajaawel."

Snow is coming! Yesterday I got a cold from playing outside. The doctor tells mama that despite the cold I am allowed to play outside for a short while. In the morning papa and mama open the shutters and there is snow everywhere! They say the snow will remain for some days. I am dancing with joy. Tamer is surprised by this. The schools are closed again. This time, let it be for a long time!

3 March 2003We have had two days of snow. It came with the storm. Water is dripping down from the roof and some black spots are appearing on the walls due to the humidity. Mama puts a bucket in my bedroom for the water to drip into. Sometimes there is no electricity for a few hours. We hear that some houses have had no electricity for two days. We are not receiving any gas either. Mama asks us to put on double clothing to keep warm, but I want to wear my summer clothes. I feel free, as there is no school today. Mama explains to me, that this time it is not because of the mamnu'a tajaawel. I hear that the Israeli soldiers are leaving Bethlehem. Despite my cold, papa and I make three snowmen in our garden; one of tete and one of Janet. Mama takes several pictures rapidly, saying one never knows how long the snow will last. After making the snowmen I am very tired, and papa tells me a Japanese snow story in which a man marries

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a snow bride with a pale face. He finds out that she starts to melt in Spring. “Papa,” I say, “I want you to tell me fairy tales with a happy ending!”

Tamer is always busy playing. He swings his head forwards and backwards.

18 March 2003Mama asks me to pray every day for my father’s visa. I don’t know what a visa is, but I pray for it anyway. I understand that papa has to go in and out of the country so as not have difficulties with the Israeli soldiers.

Mama says that a war in Iraq has started. The Americans are going into Iraq. Mama says that the French government is better than the American one. Some Palestinian babies are named after French president Chirac, because France does not agree with the United States about this war.

I ask why Michael Jackson dresses himself like a woman.

Tamer is suddenly able to crawl from one corner of the room to another. He shakes his head and blows kisses in the air. He always says “aja” [he came]. Mama says that he must be happy because papa has just come back from his short trip. Bad weather is being predicted for the next few days. The world is upside down, mama says. “We get snow in spring, have leaders who don't listen to their peoples, and although the world is against war, it is coming,” she says.

14 April 2003I say that you have to go far away not to see suffering and victims. On Palm Sunday I do not want to be on papa’s shoulders but stay on my feet. We are in the procession going from the Mount of Olives to the Old City. I feel like a big girl. Among the procession is a group of people from Bethlehem. They are happy to have got a permission to leave Bethlehem. One boy wraps himself in the white-yellow flag of the Vatican. He is carried on the shoulders of the other boys. They sing Hosannah. A Franciscan friar says: “Shway, Bethlehem [calm down Bethlehem], you are visiting Al Quds [Jerusalem, the holy city].” I hear songs for peace in different kinds of languages.

At school the teacher tells us about customs associated with Easter. She speaks about the traditional cookies baked in the form of a crown of thorns, or in the form of the great stone that closed the tomb of Jesus. A red liquor that is served, is like the blood of Jesus. The Easter eggs, my teacher explains, represent the opening of the tomb and the resurrection. Mama says that a lot of Moslem families also color eggs at Easter, and buy Christmas trees at Christmas.

Tamer has pain because his teeth are coming out. He cries. “Why did you bring such a beautiful baby”, I tell mama, “Tamer gets all the attention!”

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28 April 2003We all go for a weekend holiday to a hotel in Jericho. The hotel is almost empty. It is great to be in the swimming pool. Tamer is now one year old. This is the first time he has ever left Bethlehem. In the pool, he floats on a huge turtle, and suddenly murmers all kind of sounds and words. I jump up and down and do as if I am swimming in deep water. Mama remembers that long ago, when she was a child she used to come to Jericho every Sunday. Her father would bring the family, and they would all have breakfast by a stream, then go to see the horse races.

I ask mama why she herself never tries to get a tasrih [permit to leave Bethlehem]. Mama doesn't answer.

At home I want to play mahsum [checkpoint]. “What a game!” says mama. But papa comes to play. He plays the soldier, and I play the one who wants to pass. Afterwards we reverse roles, and I am the soldier. Papa passes and tells me that he does not want to show his tasrih. I beg him to show it – “Come on, please, we are playing a game.” But papa does not want to show his papers. So I quickly grab some papers from elsewhere. I study them carefully. Then I wave my hand – “Go, go!”

14 July 2003“Is this a wedding?” I ask when we hear the honking of many cars. Mama says that the Palestinian police is returning to Bethlehem and that the Israeli army has withdrawn. “Where to?” I ask. “To Rachel's Tomb,” mama says. “But that is in Bethlehem!” I say. “Yes,” mama says, “They have withdrawn, and yet they are staying.”

I feel that mama and papa are not being serious with me. In the evening I go for a walk with papa in the street. He tells me about the little moon men who are busy polishing the moon to keep it shining. “Moon men don't exist!” I tell him. “But at least we can dream about them - What's wrong with that?” he says. “No, I don't want to dream - I am afraid of dreaming,” I tell him clearly. A few days later, I am a bit afraid of the police. They are walking along both sides of the University road. They look like guerrillas, papa says. They have their heads down and guns ready. I put on the mask that I made during summer camp. It makes me look like a cat. “Now they can’t see me,” I say. “You don't need to be afraid,” he says, “They will be afraid of you.”

Friends and family say “smallah, smallah” [in God's name] to Tamer. Mama says that some older family members say this to protect him against the evil eye. He looks very nice with his curly hair. While we are eating, Tamer’s hand suddenly appears on table, grabs a fork and a plate, and things go tumbling down. He tries to walk a little.

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14 August 2003We are at the Etzion army administration, where my father must go to renew his permit. For our holiday in Cyprus mama tries to travel through Tel Aviv. I am singing a song, "governments are tyrants." I move my arms as if I am talking with the soldiers: If you do not give us the tasrih, I will stay waiting here for you till 12 o'clock. I tell mama and papa that if the trip to Limasol does not work out, I will go to the moon. I want to travel, and why not to Eilat, I say. After all, in Israel everything is beautiful. Here in Palestine it is poor. I ask mama: “What does God think of all this?” Mama does not know what to answer. I say: “If God thinks this is OK, then I don't love God.”

I want to go to the theater. “Let's build a theater at home,” I say, “with a soldier to check the tickets.” Tamer breaks things and crawls on top of things. He climbs over me and does dangerous things. Another tooth is coming through.

1 September 2003It looks like the nice holiday we had planned in Cyprus with mama, Janet and grandma will not be taking place. A soldier calls to say that Imm Hannah will get the tasrih but not Mary and Janet. Mama and papa decide that I go alone with papa to Cyprus. We have a nice holiday with a lot of water in the water parks.

I can't wait to go to the big school for the first time. I am so proud to wear the red and blue uniform of St Joseph’s. Papa and mama take my picture when I am leaving home.

Tamer is always running and climbing.

5 October 2003Little kids have taken away the plate number from tete's [grandma's] house. I want a new number. “Let's put it on carton,” I say. I can draw numbers very well, and I am also good at painting. My school is teaching me how to draw the Palestinian flag. I very much like to draw beautiful houses with nature, trees and flowers all around. Sometimes I walk with Tamer around our house and the neighbour's house. There we meet a nice cat. We climb on the many small stone stairs. We look on the ground for dude [ants]. Tamer gives loud shrieks so that he can hear his echo over the hills.

18 December 2003Sometimes I go to the Peace Center near the Church of Nativity. There we can visit a concert of musicians or singers. They come from all over the world. Together with mama, papa and a friend we listen to a pianist. But it is difficult to stay on the chair!

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One evening papa and I go out to listen to sudden shouting and car honking on the streets. What strange sounds! Papa says that the students from the university are happy. They have won the elections.

I often sing Biladi [my country] at school. Papa also sings Dutch children’s songs all the time. I tell him to stop singing all the time because I want him to do other things with me. Mama says that our neighbor can hear the children’s songs which papa sings. Our neighbour told mama that she thought papa was praying, like the muezzin. “Are you Moslem, papa?” I ask papa.

Tamer has already destroyed his electronic piano. He should take more care of his things!

2 February, 2004I cry when papa tells me that all people die. I ask mama: “Isn't it true, mama, that after death we go to heaven?” When mama says “yes,” I ask her how it is possible that when we are dead and cannot move, we manage to go to heaven.

I like to hear nice stories about friendly animals and good fairies, but not the stories where people kill each other. I ask papa why there is suddenly a loud boom and why our windows tremble. Papa does not want to talk about it.

The Moslem Al-Adha feast is being celebrated. Papa tells me that the booms I hear outside are not from the Israeli soldiers, as I think. He says they are caused by fireworks. I see many children on the streets who have received pistols and tanks as present for the feast.

Tamer is always busy with airplanes and everything that turns around. He gets all kinds of plastic airplanes and round toys. At breakfast, we dip the bread in a thick syrup made of grapes [dibbis], or we eat zeit w za'ater [olive oil and thyme]. Sometimes Mama, Papa, Tamer and myself hold each other together and mama says “habibi, habibi” [my love, my love].

5 May 2004Mary, Janet, grandpa, Tamer and I take a taxi on the Wadi Nar road. We are on the way to Jericho! We will go to a hotel and stay the night there, for a change. Papa is not with us, he will be coming from Ramallah. But the soldiers do not let us pass and send us back. Back home, I see papa. He strikes a fist on the table and says, in Dutch, “Laat je niet kisten” [don’t let anyone discourage you]. He says that we will cross Wadi Nar once again. We try, and this time we succeed. A friend in Paris writes an email to me. She says: “I am not Jewish, I am not Israeli, I am not French, but just a human.”

In the evening papa, Tamer and I do what we usually do: Tamer and I stand on the bed, then jump into papa’s arms. Papa finds it fun when Tamer climbs up on

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his body. Then Tamer stands on top of his shoulders. Tamer likes that too, he becomes so big!

I hear that last night we had a Jewish visitor in our house. I am very shocked and tell mama: "But he could have shot at us!"

28 August 2004I am in Holland and Paris with my aunts and uncles. It is the first time I go and stay with family. I am happy to go, but I also cry. One day I see a group of soldiers in Paris and I am so surprised. They don’t speak Hebrew!

On my return, I feel that Bethlehem is not beautiful. I feel that the soldiers and jeeps make Bethlehem ugly.

Papa asks me to draw something for an exhibition of drawings. The theme is about peace. Papa asks me if I would like to do this, and I ask, what is peace? Then I remember the dove, and that's what I would like to draw. “Standing or flying?” Papa asks. I wonder what he means, and I say “flying!” and laugh.

August 2004This summer papa and I watch the beginning of the Olympic Games. Papa and I cheer for the big Dutch group of sportsmen and women when they enter the stadium. I am silent when the Palestinian team of two or three persons comes in. I feel it is a big moment for mama. The woman in the front keeps her fingers high in a V-sign. At school I learn about the Palestinian flag, about the Al Aqsa Mosque, and that Saladin liberated Jerusalem. Tamer also likes to go to school, the kindergarten. He carries his schoolbag proudly on his back. When he goes to the bus in the morning, he tells mama: “I kiss you.” Afterwards mama says: “I hope that the kids will not be governed by the Israelis.”

18 November 2004Papa, Tamer and I go to the zoo. Papa carries Tamer on his shoulders. Tamer feels happy. He likes to see all those big machines at the checkpoint, like the bulldozers. Papa says they are working on a building near the Wall. The new building will replace the checkpoint. The big blue flag on top of the checkpoint is the only colorful thing. I tell papa that I am afraid. Papa says that if you stay calm, the soldiers at the checkpoint will not shoot. They just say yes or no when you show the passport. He says there is nobody, so why should they shoot at us? But I am not sure. We pass through the checkpoint quickly. Then we walk for some time to get an Israeli taxi. The driver has an Israeli flag on the window of the car. The driver changes expression when he hears me speaking Arabic with Tamer.

I like the zoo as always. You can hear all kinds of languages: Hebrew, Arabic and English. When back home, mama asks Tamer if he saw the jaysh [the army],

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at the checkpoint. “Yes,” he says, “they didn't shoot.” It looks as if he is disappointed that he could not play his shooting games. In the garden he uses everything to make a pistol, such as a toy hairdryer, a piece of bark from the tree, or the clips for hanging clothes. He bends himself a little backwards then stretches his arms in front of him and makes exploding sounds. "Allah yustur" [May God protect us], mama sighs. I see that mama is wearing a long black dress as people do when somebody dies. I tell her that she looks like the Jewish women in the zoo.

5 December 2004Tamer likes to go to school. The bus driver welcomes Tamer with his thumb high and a big smile. Tamer does not have a heavy school bag. He takes the seat right behind the driver so that he can peep over his shoulder towards the road.

I also take the school bus. My bag is full of books. The schoolbags are sometimes heavier than the girls! Every few days I have an imtihaan [exam]. At the beginning of the school I am upset about all those exams. “Why are you so afraid of the exams?” Mama asks, “you were not afraid during the curfews, so why should you be afraid now?” “Is 9.5 over 10 a good mark?” I ask her. The children in my class [six to seven years old] compare their marks. Yesterday I showed papa and mama a list. I gave each of the girls in my class a number. We are playing this game at school.

I have seven or eight different lessons a day, including Arabic, English and French. I also have different teachers for those subjects. There are 40 pupils in class. Each day mama works with me for an hour or so to help me prepare the homework for the next day.

I am learning the names of the refugee camps in Jordan, the West Bank, Gaza, Lebanon and Syria. I learn that Palestinian refugees are those who were obliged to leave their homeland and who want to return. The rest of the chapter is about the names of the camps and the numbers of camps. Mama tells me about the time when Israel was established. Many Palestinians were driven out. Mama tells how the refugees in 'Azza camp opposite our house first lived in tents. The people in the camp come from a place which was called Beit Jibreen. Papa tells me how in the Israeli town of Beit Guvrin you can still see parts of the old Arab houses. I am happy that I finished studying “wataniyye” [civics]. I already knew that Israel had never been a friend of the Palestinians.

Now I want to quickly hear a nice fairy tale before I go to sleep.

10 January 2005Tamer sits on his little wooden chair. He is doing as if he is reading from a book that he took from his father. The other day he was telling tete [grandmother] a story, Kaan fi Kadeem al-Zamaan… [Once upon a time]. Mary has to think up a

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name of the animal which fires the starting shot when the rabbit and the turtle start to run. Tamer says: “It's the jaysh” [the army].

Most of the time he is busy with his tricycle. “Tutut”, he shouts. Mama sings with him: “Tut-tut ‘a Beirut “ [tut-tut, up to Beirut].

I say that only in heaven there are no checkpoints. Tamer finally got his gun to fight the jaysh [army]. Mama bought him a plastic one. He studies it carefully, looking into all the little parts of the gun. After one day all the pieces are spread out over the carpet. We can throw them into the trash!

31 January 2005We have a picnic with my cousins, uncles and aunts in a piece of land next to the barbed wire near a checkpoint. It is owned by mama’s family. From behind the barbed wire and look at a military road. Suddenly there is a military jeep before us. There is a very loud creaky voice saying in Arabic that we have to leave immediately. I want to run away but Tamer becomes thrilled and wants to stay. Papa says that we have to go away, but not running. A few weeks ago the kids of mama’s cousin were throwing little stones from behind the fence at a donkey below. The soldiers in the jeep came out. They took the boys to their military building near Rachel’s Tomb. Mama’s cousin drove behind them to pick them up a few hours later.

Tamer is picking the leaves of the olive tree in tete’s garden. “Papa, zeitoun [olive tree]!” he shouts at papa. Then he picks the colorful little flowers in the grass mumbling to himself: One flower for tete [grandma], one for Janet, one for mama, one for papa, one for Yara, and one for the neighbor’s brother whom he likes.

19 April 2005On Friday and Sunday morning, when Tamer and I do not have school, we sometimes go with papa into the garden. There is a little sculpture of St Mary hidden in an alcove made of little stones. I pray there sometimes, and Tamer prayed the Abana Ladi [Our Father] there for the first time. While walking we hear the bread vendor shouting “ka’ek, ka’ek!” from the street. It is a tasty kind of bread with sesame. It is sold together with falafel balls, eggs heated in the same oven as the bread, and a little za’ater [thyme] rolled up in a shred of newspaper. I like it very much. The salesman sometimes carries the bread on his head. Mama and Papa sometimes put me and Tamer on their heads, shouting “ka’ek, ka’ek!”

Papa, Tamer and I sometimes see little cats in the garden. Tamer wants to follow the cats and likes to go into the neighbor’s garden.

At home we eat the cookies for Easter: looz, almonds, ka’ak and ma’mul, which are two cookies eaten during this time. They are like Jesus’ crown of thorns and like the sponge soaked in vinegar that he was given to drink on the cross.

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Mama and Papa are drinking black Arabic coffee. The smell of coffee is strong!

Papa asks me to close my eyes and to tell him what I see. It’s a game of his. I see the Wall, I say.

16 November 2005I learn at school that it is Palestinian Independence Day. Papa, Tamer and I go to the zoo in Jerusalem. Mama cannot join us because she doesn’t have a permit. She puts fruits in the bag for me and Tamer. Should we put a knife in the bag to cut the fruits? Mama says “It’s better not to have an iron knife, but a plastic one, as the soldiers at the checkpoint may become suspicious.” Today the new terminal is in use. The checkpoint is now very big.

At the gate in the Wall, a soldier checks papa’s passport. Then we enter through iron corridors into the terminal itself. We pass a glass hut, and a soldier quickly checks the passports again. A woman wants to enter a turning fence, but she does not have a tasreeh [permit]. A soldier at the other side of the fence tells her loudly that she cannot come in. There are so many iron bars and stone walls around us. The hall is huge. We are waiting in front of another gate with iron bars. Somebody is trying to a woman soldier who is speaking Hebrew. She wants him to take his belt off, or his shoes, speaking to him through a loudspeaker from behind a thick glass window. The loudspeaker is very loud, and there is an echo as the hall is so big.

Papa tells me that he forgot to bring the bag with the apples. Now the soldiers will ask us why we are bringing a knife without any need for it. I am scared. The light above the gate turns green and we pass the through the iron gate. I am relieved that the soldier does not ask us to take the plastic knife out of the bag. Through the loudspeaker the soldier says, “Have a nice day.” Then we go to another place where they ask us for the passports. They look at papa’s passport from all sides. “Have a nice day,” they say again. We walk out of the terminal. I see a soldier doing pee-pee behind a pillar. I giggle. I pull papa’s arm and whisper in his ear, asking him why the soldier is doing so outside. Don’t they learn to go to a toilet?

On the way to the zoo I admire all the greenery along the roads. “How beautiful it is here,” I say loudly.

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Dr Toine van Teeffelen is Director Development at the Arab Educational Institute in Bethlehem. He previously conducted studies in anthropology and discourse analysis, and is presently involved in grassroots projects for communicating Palestine and Bethlehem. Those who want to receive his blog (in English or Dutch), please write to: tvant@p-ol.com

Mary van Teeffelen-Morcos, curator Turathuna (Our Heritage) and librarian at Bethlehem University.

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